


panic room

by osakiss



Series: logan's distress in school [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Neurodivergent Logan, Non-binary Logan, Non-binary character, Public crying, This is really self indulgent, and basically a vent, breakdown - Freeform, stress crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 11:24:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21457270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osakiss/pseuds/osakiss
Summary: Logan has a breakdown at the end of their Psychology class.
Series: logan's distress in school [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1546909
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	panic room

Logan’s eyes were downcast as they entered their Psychology class with Remus. It was hard masking anxiety. Their chest felt a bit heavy, but it wasn’t an extreme weight. Similar to just a book or two being placed on your chest, but one of the books was a nice World History textbook. Logan could still breathe, nothing was too bad so it didn’t matter.

They went and sat at their seat. The classroom wasn’t arranged in rows, rather just groups. Logan’s assigned seat that they got to choose themselves was the one right in front of the pole in the room, the back row right behind them. One of their friends, Virgil, being at the corner seat of the back row and nearby. Remus sat right next to them, but his attention was on everyone else at the table. That was okay, more than okay really. Logan didn’t really feel like talking to anyone, and really didn’t want anyone to notice they were unraveling. They looked at the desk in the corner that was to the left of the door and noticed Mr. Sanders wasn’t in that day. Instead, it was another teacher in the building, Mrs. Lorinn, meaning she was a substitute. Just great, their favorite teacher wasn’t in_ again _, and they would have to do a stupid amount of work they would never do otherwise in the class. It was only busywork, but it was also counted for a grade so Logan had to do it. This was only giving them more anxiety.

The other day there was also a substitute, Mrs. Poinsette. The assignment was online, and the class was given laptops and the class period to complete it. The problem was Mr. Sanders messed up the links on the Ted Talks assigned, and both Ted Talks were the same one, meaning the second set of questions couldn’t be answered. It was available till the next day, but would be counted as late and would drop their grade a bit. Logan couldn’t afford anything less than a 100 in this class. The second link was given on the board, but Logan did something they regret. Instead of working on their Psychology assignment, they saw it was available till the next day and decided to do their Algebra homework instead. They didn’t know about the links being messed up, had only focused on the fact that it was ‘due’ tomorrow. Logan was informed of this once they attempted at doing their work at home, realizing that they’d need to somehow get the link to the second video. The last thing Logan wanted to do was ask others for assistance. 

Now they were sitting in the room of which they had an assignment due and haven't completed yet. It was already late, Mr. Sanders changed the due date but kept the availability, so there was nothing Logan could do there. The only thing Logan could do was complete whatever packet was being given out this period, and swiftly go home and try to find that second video. One of the questions contained a quote, and with the knowledge of it being from a Ted Talk, Logan created the plan of searching the quote accompanied with the words “Ted Talk” and hopefully finding the link. Mrs. Lorrin smiled as she passed out the case studies.

When Logan got theirs, they immediately flipped through it, trying to estimate the time it would take to complete it. They went back to the front, and started reading the symptoms and backstories, until Remus’ voice cut through.

“Hey Logan, do you know the first one?” Logan’s eyes kept firmly to the packet, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone, even if it was considered rude.

Of course he would ask them. Of course. Logan was the smart one, weren’t they? They were expected to be able to understand everything as soon as they saw them, as if their mind was filled with whatever they considered intelligent. Logan never studied, and still got high grades. Logan was the smartest in the room, but was modest and denied it. Nothing more to it, _ right _? It wasn’t like Logan simply learned by finding these subjects interesting and listening to the teacher, or that they had their own methods that helped them to know these things instead of the memorization of notes that all the neurotypical kids in the class did. Logan learned by rehearsing things, as if it was a speech. The repetition helped them. But nobody else knew that. It wouldn’t seem fit for the smart one to be anything but neurotypical, or at least that’s what they told themselves. It was terrifying keeping that under wraps, but they managed. 

But god, the more difficult part was when people expected them to know something they were still figuring out. Logan knew nobody meant it this way, but when they were still in the process of finding the answer and someone asks them a question regarding it, since Logan can’t give an answer they feel inadequate. They feel as if they can’t live up to the horribly high expectations of everyone else and themselves, and that they’re worthless. Worthless because they couldn’t answer that question. Worthless because they aren’t what people expect. Worthless because if they don’t live up to these expectations, they’re just a stupid, queer immigrant. The pressure took an enormous toll on Logan’s mental health, to the point where everything was skewed against them. 

Logan tried their best to keep the stutter out of their voice. “I- Still getting it. Sorry.” The fumble of words made them embarrassed, increased their need to cry, but it was better than a stutter.

“Oh, okay!” Remus said cheerfully, and turned his attention back to the other kids at the table.

That was it? Did Logan really just stress over something so _ stupid _? They were losing their touch.

Focusing back on their work, they read it all over again. The lines for the answers were a bit messed up, but it was nothing they couldn’t deal with. Well, they couldn’t deal with it, but it’s okay since those papers would be gone in a little bit. The lines were distracting Logan. They kept rereading the backstory, trying to find something to work with in the symptoms, but their head was hurting so bad. When did their head start hurting? Well, it was now, and it was an issue. This headache was preventing them from thinking, the fuzziness and pain making coherent thought difficult. Logan wanted to ask for help, knowing they had to if they wanted to complete this, but not wanting to speak. They were smart, right? They would figure it out.

But the pain persisted. Logan couldn’t stand it. Everyone was talking so much. Noises, too many noises. Logan clutched their ears, and angled their arms so they could stuff their face into them. Logan knew nobody would notice as long as they kept any and all noises gone. No noises, nobody would know about this. They let tears slide down their cheeks, keeping their labored breaths quiet. Wiping them away, they went back to the task at hand. They could focus a bit better, but everyone’s voices were so loud. Logan wanted to tell them all to shut up so badly, but even they knew they couldn’t do that. The thought itself sparked too much anxiety, and they knew it was horrifyingly rude. Logan still wanted to though. 

Their eyes were still glued downward, but they knew nobody was looking at them. **_But what if they were?_** That single thought gave them too much anxiety to not simply check a little. If they were met with any eyes, they’d just sink back down and die. Solid plan. The image of everyone staring at them scaring them enough to look up and get a tiny peak.

Everyone was chatting. Nobody was looking at them. They turned to the back row, and Virgil looked up at them.

“You good?” Virgil asked, concern in his violet eyes.

Logan nodded quickly, facing back to their work. They tried to listen to what everyone else was saying, hoping they would give them clues. But when they tuned in, all they heard was comments about several different disorders and incorrect assumptions on them. Some of those disorders Logan happened to have. They kept their mouth shut, panic seeping in. Logan knew, logically, they weren’t talking about them. This was a Psychology class, and they were doing case studies, _ of course _ they were going to be talking about disorders. The feeling still didn’t go away. Emotions aren’t rational, after all.

Somehow, that managed to help them think clearly. They were able to tune everyone else out and focus solely on the assignment. It wasn’t difficult at all. Just some reading, and the disorder was rather obvious as well. Logan quickly jotted down the diagnosis they gave and the reasoning, but before they could get up and turn it in, Remus’ voice interjected once again.

“Oh! Could I check my answers with yours? You’re the answer key, after all.” Remus asked, joking at the end. But Logan heard that ‘joke’ too many times. Truthfully, they hated the ‘answer key’ and ‘calculator’ comments, but would never speak out against it. Even if they did, it would just be seen as them being ‘modest’ again. Logan really did hate being seen as smart. None of it was recognized as the hard work it really was, rather being thought of as ‘natural talents’.

“Sure.” Logan kept their reply terse. They really didn’t want to speak more than they had to.

Remus saw nothing wrong with that answer, quickly scanning what Logan put on the sheet and giving it back to them.

“We got the same things! Nice.” Remus giggled. Logan nodded, took Remus’ sheet, and rose out of their seat to turn in their work.

They were the first one done. While that should’ve made them feel better, they only felt relief. Perfectionism and Imposter Syndrome were awful to deal with. No matter what, they couldn’t feel satisfied. Wonderful.

They returned to their seat, but noticed that Virgil wasn’t done yet. So Logan got up, went behind him, and started filling in the answers for him.

“Oh, thanks L. You didn’t have to.” Virgil twisted his neck to get a look at Logan’s eyes, the worry from earlier still being there, but Logan already finished all the answers and returned back to their desk.

“You’re welcome.” Logan turned their attention to their thumbs, fiddling with them. 

They were trying to find some kind of distraction. Any kind of distraction. Logan looked up and saw the girl in front of them still wasn’t finished, and got up. 

“Do you require any assistance?” They asked, keeping their voice leveled. Score for Logan, they don’t seem on the verge of a breakdown. 

“Uh, yeah. Just this one, I got the others figured out.” she said. Julianna, they think her name was.

Logan scanned the case quickly, realizing it was Marianne’s from theirs and telling her, “Panic Disorder. She fears feeling anxiety at those places due to her previous situations, and anything similar to it. That’s what makes it different from an anxiety disorder.”

Julianna nodded, thanking Logan and they proceeded to go back to their desk and sit down. 

Hopefully the bell would ring soon, as they could feel panic welling up inside them. Everything felt bad. Their head may feel okay, but everything else didn’t. Logan knew they were going to cry again, but they really didn’t want to. What if someone noticed? Logan couldn’t stomach the thought of it.

Suddenly, everyone got up and Logan knew it was time to leave. They grabbed their books and pressed them up against their chest, making sure to keep their eyes on the floor and nowhere else. Everyone was still talking, still being so loud. They were talking about clocks, and time. Ha, time. Time was pretty funny. Daylight savings time was evidence in it of itself that time is a flawed man-made concept. Time existed, just not the way humans made it out to seem. Logan wanted to focus on those thoughts, something to them feel better, but then they couldn’t because someone was focusing on them instead of the conversation.

“Hey, Logan? Are you okay?” It was Patton.

Logan shook their head rapidly, before choking out a sob and slapping their head over their mouth.

“Logan, are you sure?” Patton again. His voice was filled with concern. Logan could picture the face he was probably making right now, but he couldn’t put their head up. Patton would see the tears if they did. Logan clutched their books tighter.

Logan felt obligated to reply. If they didn’t, would they figure something was wrong in their head? That they weren’t as neurotypical as everyone else thought they were? So, Logan tried to reply without sounding like they were crying.

“I’m fine.” They said with extreme difficulty. Well, so much for sounding like they weren’t crying. A sob climbed out of their mouth, the loud noise alerting Patton. Patton came and put his arm around Logan, asking what was wrong. Logan kept shaking their head, unable to move.

The bell rang, and Logan bolted out of the room. They didn’t stop running, not caring that anyone could see their tears. They made it to their locker, quickly doing the combination before someone they didn’t know squatted next to them and asked them a dreaded question.

“Are you okay honey? What’s wrong?” They was a short, black person. Logan didn’t want to assume any gender here, but they did look feminine. Their hair was so pretty, Logan loved their ponytail. But Logan couldn't tell them that right at that moment. Patton’s locker was right next to theirs, and it seemed Patton might be making his way up now. 

“I’m fine, sorry for worrying you. However, thank you for being concerned.” Logan replied, and took their things before bolting down the steps once again.

They didn’t stop running. Out of the building, fighting against the cold that numbed their hands, and off to the bus stop. Once they were home, everything would be okay. 

Everything would be okay, but they weren’t right now.

**Author's Note:**

> yes this is becoming a series (not really Connected in any way per say more like just. school au bullshit. no coherent plotline to it tho)


End file.
